To Look at the Stars Once Again
by Shiina15
Summary: War happen all the time between nations. It's a part of their life. But what they tend to forget is that war leaves scars- deep ones that aren't so easily healed. These two have done the best to ignore those scars and move on, but putting a bandaid on it won't do much. While most nations hide it, these two have decided to show the world their scars like stars in the night sky.
1. I desire Freedom

'_Le pain est là sur mes genoux,_

_Et les étoiles très loin de moi_

_J'y mords en contemplant les astres_

_Et gorgée de rêve_

_Incroyablement,_

_Je mange les étoiles._*'

From dawn till dusk, day after day, she worked in the endless rice fields, and though she knew she was contributing to her people, she couldn't help but wish to be elsewhere. Who didn't? She knew of no one who actually liked hard labour and though it may not seem like it, she wasn't an exception.

Sometimes, she would be alone in her room, but in her dreams, she would be eating the stars. She looked for the most beautiful star.

She named it freedom.

That was what she had sought for, all those years. She went through it all, war after war, death after death... all this just to be an independent nation. She broke her ties with the Western ways and welcomed the new regime: Communism. It was her exchange- she'd be given the fire power and the recognition of a nation, though she'd have to live under that reign.

Even today, decades later, the signs of the war were still present. Her name wasn't the 'Republic of Vietnam'. No, it was the 'Socialist Republic of Vietnam'. There wasn't a day that had gone by that didn't remind her of it.

Lien dreamed of a place where she wouldn't have to hold back her words. She loved English, she learned English like one breaths in the air after a stormy night. The Vietnamese woman dreamed of a place where the night would be hers.

And there she was, lying on the grass, listening to the quiet flow of the river beside her that shimmered in the starlight, just outside of the small village that she would return to in the morning to help the less fortunate farmers sell their goods. The dark sky full of glittering stars, she could smell the scent of the pink lotuses that she so cherished. And however wild this landscape was, however familiar it had gotten...

La nuit ne l'appartient pas encore.

The night didn't belong to her yet.

*Words from Turkish poet Oktay Rifat, born in Istanbul 1914

French translation from 'L'été des mangeurs d'étoiles'

English Translation:

The bread is there, on my lap,

And the stars far from me

I bite into them, contemplating the asters

And gulp dreams

Incredibly

I eat the stars.


	2. I desire Peace

_'Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;_

_Where knowledge is free;_

_Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;_

_Where words come out from the depth of truth;_

_Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;_

_Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;_

_Where the mind is led forward by thee into ever-widening thought and action —_

_Into that heaven of freedom, my Father, let my country awake.'*_

Alfred had his chin above them all, king of the world he was. No one dared to face him. No one could lift a finger against him. He had it all: _Money_, _Education_ and _Fame_.

Nothing bordered his limits; no one was there to tell him what he had to do. He loved his country, he loved the land of free and it was hard to picture some place better. Throughout his lifetime, he had seen things. He had seen places that didn't allow one to speak up. He saw places were someone wasn't able to leave their house, fearing for their lives. His country was much better than that. His country was _privileged_. At least, that's what Arthur would tell him.

But don't let that fool you. Just because he knew his country was so high and mighty doesn't mean he didn't dream. Quite the contrary, he was well aware that his country was far from absolute perfection. The United States of America... was far from united. Each state with their rules and borders... that wasn't something he could particularly call free. And then there were the limits between his country and the rest of the world.

Who could blame him, though? He was a guarded man, especially after the 11th September 2001. Paranoia had taken over his mind.

What he wanted was fairly simple, actually- a world without borders, without violence, and with peace. It was too optimistic to ever be true, though, he still reached for it. And he'd continue to reach for it. Someday, he told himself, I will make it happen.

But someday wasn't today.

*Gitanjali 35, poem by Rabindranath Tagore, born in Calcutta, Bengal Presidency 1891


	3. We seek Happiness

_June, 1940._

_France had lost to Germany. He had become Vichy France that ruled over French Indochina like a dark__cloud over the moon. He loomed over it, coveting the lands with his greedy hands, wanting it all. No longer was it the kind-hearted France of the Allies. This one was by far the worst, his golden hair making a stark contrast against the green of the landscape, showing off the treasure he has obtained._

_September 1940._

_A steel blade stained crimson rips the__cloud__from the moon, only to pierce itself into the surface. Japan has now taken control over the area. It turns away at the screams of outrage, only ignoring its pain. When Vietnam attempts to fight back by destroying factories, casualties follow. All opponents of the Japanese have fallen, being nothing but overheated flies. The dark haired man laughs as he drains them of their life. But something unnerves him._

_No matter how many times he crushed their hopes, they come back. It was annoying, very much so. But it was impossible for them to be fighting back that way! Not unless they had help._

_He should've seen it coming._

_August, 1945_

_No metal could've resisted the explosion. The Japanese had fallen and the United States reigned supreme once again. To celebrate, he decided to bring his damsel who was no longer in distress back home._

_She learned from him there. He would show her books and help her improve her English. They would go to the library, laugh together, and smile together... He'd have an arm around her waist and she'd be on his lap with some old posh book like Wuthering Heights or the Count of Monte Christo. They'd go eat at__fast food restaurant__and he would laugh seeing her trying to eat a burger with a pair of chopsticks._

_But France had not given up. No, he kept Vietnam as his and hissed at anyone who dared to go against him. He had colonized her, after all, fair and square. So what if Britain was returning his colonies? He was part of the United Nations and he did as he pleased. Even America couldn't lift a finger against him, though he tried to help her reach gradual independence, France would have none of it. And so, Vietnam remained in French hands though detested it more than anything else. If America wouldn't help her, she'd have to find someone else._

_War began again in 1946, lasting another 6 years._

_With Ho Chi Minh as her leader, the French had surrendered Indochina in 1954. America didn't know what to think. The Viet Minh was a communist group, after all._

_Things got a little messy from there. One part of her, the South, refused to agree to this regime but the other, the North, wanted communism. Of course, with the Viet Minh on their side, the North had quickly gained terrain and was soon being the main force, the one that took over Lien the most. But the South still resisted and then the United States decided to help. Seeing this, China and the Soviet Union supplied the North, not wanting it to lose._

_1968, the communists attack South Vietnam and though it was a failed attempt, the Americans were unable to lift a finger and so the general American public was devastated. Around 1971, the Americans retreat, unable to strengthen or stabilize the South. All of the bonds the two had built between this time and the end of the Second World War had been shattered._

_In 1976, Vietnam once again finds peace and reunites herself to become a Socialist Republic._

And since then, she hadn't spoken a word to America. Though they did trade, she never went to him directly. Others, such as the Minister of Trades and the Minister of Foreign Affairs would take care of such things. She had made her peace with Russia, China and France but looking at the American in the eye was impossible.

Though, there were times when she had to go to the Americas because United Nation meetings would be held there. She didn't mind, she'd take her notes, say what she had to say and leave, that is of course if she managed to squish her words in between all the bickering and noise.

Taking her seat by the other ASEAN members, she crossed her legs and looked over at the head of the table. The host was going over some things in an almost serious manner, if it weren't for the soda cup he constantly began reaching for.

Some people really don't change; the woman rolled her eyes while her thoughts returned back to the days of the two of them at the fast food restaurant.

It had been decades since America had spoken to her. He had the words but when he tried to say them, they were asphyxiated into his throat, choking him like a clogged pipe. He assumed it was because of nerves. He took a seat and eyed her through his spectacles.

No matter what, no matter how, he would make conversation. He would talk to her, even for a brief moment. Just a simple 'Hi, how are you' chit chat would be better than nothing. Of course, it was going to require tremendous effort, but he was the hero after all.

When the meeting finished, everyone stood up to go catch up with other countries or return home. Lien was moving towards the door when a small boy bumped into her. Sealand, she recalled.

"Hullo there, you're Miss Vietnam, aren't you?" he chirped, being the happy boy he was.

"Hello there," she answered with a small dip of her head, "Yes, I am Vietnam."

When she didn't simply ignore him, the islander got even cheerier, "I heard you beat America once! Could you tell me how it went? I bet if I had the tactics to kick his butt, I could be a real nation! I heard there were lots of guns and stuff! Pow, boom, crash!" he tried mimicking the noises he had heard on the news, "Like that, right?"

As it turned out, it took no effort at all for Alfred to slip into the conversation. As previously mentioned, he was a hero, and a hero is always there to save his damsel in distress.

"Hey there, little buddy! You look a little lost, so why don't you go around back to England? He said he was looking for you after all!" he laughed, noticing Lien dip her head in thanks only to take the opportunity to leave the room. Shit. He had to catch up to her now.

"But I don't wanna!" the smaller boy complained, "That old man is annoying!"

"Look... if you go with him, I'll buy you some ice cream later, how about it?"

Thick eyebrows knitted into a frown, "Fine! But it has to be extra chocolaty!" he called, scampering away.

As it turned out, Lien had escaped into the women's restroom. Oh, lovely. America waited just outside, hopping she would come out. Belarus glared at him when she entered, thinking him to be a pervert. Eventually, Taiwan skipped by and an idea came to mind.

"Hey! Taiwan... erm... you're Mei, right?" Alfred asked, tapping her on the shoulder.

"That's me!" the Taiwanese girl exclaimed, turning to face him, "I know you! You're America... Alfred! That's it."

"Right... so you're good friends with Li- Vietnam, right?" he remembered that human names were for countries that were more than just on trading partners. Human friends and lovers used those names, and at the present time, Vietnam was far from any of them.

Mei raised an eyebrow at his question, "We're best friends I'll have you know! Why? Did something happen to her?" she narrowed her eyes.

The blond shock his head vigorously, "No... Not really... well... let's just say someone brought something up and she's been in the washroom since..." as he spoke, he saw the Belorussian female exit the lavatory.

"Hm... You want me to go check, right? Well, leave it to me!" She knew her sister well. Her small chest swelled with pride, turning to the washroom before adding, "You didn't have to ask, by the way! If you had just told me Lien wasn't feeling well, I would've gone weather you'd like it or not!"

Real best friends for you... America thought as he watched her girl hop into the washroom. Now all he had to do was stand there and wait.

"Jiějiě?" Taiwan bit her lip, "Are you in here?"

"What is it, Taichi?" Lien's voice was a little shaky, but it led the other Asian woman to stand just in front of the stall she had locked herself in.

"Are you okay? What's the matter?" she asked with worry dripping in her voice.

"I'm fine," was the answer, but Taiwan could tell she had been sobbing, "Just fine."

"I'll break open that door if you don't let me in!" for someone who wasn't even Japan's height, Mei was fierce and would kick down the door without hesitation.

"..." after a few moments, the door swung open, and the smaller girl was faced to the Vietnamese's back, "Taichi, I..." she sighed, "I'm sorry..."

"I know what happened, Jiějiě..." the usually happy-go-lucky female started in a surprisingly soft and slow voice, "But you can't blame it on don't realize how hard war was."

She bit her lip and nodded, "I know, I know... but that's not it. It's not their fault either. I'm still stuck to that time," she sighed, "How did you know I was here, anyway?"

"America is worried about you. I know you, Lien," the answer came rather quickly, "I know... I know that you can't let go of the past, but I'm asking you to at least look towards the future! This has happened so often... every time someone mentions that war, you can't face them."

This made Vietnam take a step back, "I had a feeling he'd send someone in... Besides, Mei, I can't just forget about what happened. I can't explain it, but something's holding me back."

"I think... no, I know what that thing is!" she pressed, forcing her sister to face her, "Reconcile with him! It's been 40 years, it's your chance!"

"Why are you doing this so suddenly?" for somehow who had seemed to be crying not two minutes ago, her gaze was hard and cold as ice, "You know it can't just happen, Mei."

"I'm well aware, but it has to happen sometime. Just go, he's waiting for you. At least say hello. Anything at all!" the kind hearted girl meant well, though she decided to act by pushing her sister outside.

"Mei..." Lien turned to her sister with her pupils a little wider than usual, "Can we stop this?"

"Too late!" she pushed her out.

America had waited nearly 10 minutes outside of the women's washroom. He heard a few things, but nothing that sounded like words. His heart was pounding. She'd be out soon and he could talk to her again. It was so familiar, the feeling he had, yet so new. He couldn't explain it.

Sure enough, Lien stumbled out and before she could straighten up, Mei had bolted away, remembering that China had needed her for something urgent.

America realized it was up to him to make the first move, "So..."

"Hello," a small dip of the head.

"Been a while, hasn't it," a weak smile.

An awkward nod, "It has."

There was an absence of noise.

"... Want to go out for an evening coffee with me?" he asked, feeling rather sheepish.

She shrugged as though she didn't care but in truth, this meant quite a bit to her, "Anything's better than just in front of the women's toilet..."

Germany had been passing by at that moment, and hearing Alfred ask Lien to go to coffee made him blush. Ideas speculated in his mind. In his country, when a man asks women out to coffee this late, it usually means that he's inviting her to sleep over afterwards. Unaware of their relationship, he wondered if he should tell someone about it. But Ludwig knew it was best of avoid rumors and kept silent, walking away.


	4. We look for Solace

The café was near empty, save for a few teenagers that were trying to be rebellious by staying out this late. We all know how threatening a Starbucks can be, after all...

They both ordered their drinks- Alfred took a large cold drink with a colour that Lien could only describe as unnaturally pink. All she asked for was some green tea, something simple that she could enjoy. It helped calm her down, especially after the earlier incident.

The two sat down at a table that was a little more isolated than the others for the purpose of gaining a little more privacy. Sips and stares was all that happened for a long moment and surprisingly, Vietnam decided to start the conversation.

"So..." she took a breath, "How are things?"

Alfred grinned. He was good at breaking the ice, but this moment had just seemed too awkward, even he could sense the atmosphere. To hear her be comfortable enough to ask such a casual question made him unexpectedly giddy.

"All is going well! It's all really great..." he knew asking her wouldn't be wise, but if he didn't, it'd be rude; "I heard things were improving around your place... which is super great! I'm glad you could make it to this meeting..."

Lien absentmindedly listened, enjoying the fact that the tea was an excuse to remain silent for a moment longer, though she realized that there was only half as much as there was originally in the cup. Before she could snap back to America's words, an atrocious slurping noise could be heard and with a semi amazed and semi disgusted expression, she watched as Alfred had finished the entire thing, whip cream and all.

"That was a good Frap..." he let out a burp, "Oh, excuse me... Anyways, where were we? Oh yeah, movies..."

Back at the hotel the United Nations had been staying, Arthur Kirkland had stormed to the lobby. It was eleven o'clock and after seven calls to Alfred- all of which were seemingly ignored- and a suggestive text from Francis, the Brit was red with rage. Just as he was going to enjoy a nice evening, that little brother of his came around and started bugging him to no end. Apparently, that stupid American had sent Peter, but now that idiot was nowhere to be found! As he was about to step outside for a little fresh air, he saw Germany and Italy walk in together.

"So, Germany, have you seen Miss Vietnam anywhere? I saw her pretty sister, Taiwan but she's nowhere to be found... I wanted to try that cinnamon Mr. Austria ordered last time... he said he enjoyed it too..."

Suddenly, the blonde had red dusting his cheeks, "E-erm... well, Feliciano... you see, I don't think you should be l-looking for her... she's... busy with America..." he fumbled to find words.

"Really… Doing what? Trades?" the dense Italian asked, tilting his head to the side when he saw his friend so flustered.

"None of your business!" the German roared out of embarrassment, successfully captivating the attention of everyone in the room, so he cleared his throat, "Ah, sorry for yelling... I mean, they are doing things we shouldn't talk about... come, let's just go to our room..."

The United Kingdom, however, was not so naive. He stood there, just in front of the door, trying not to watch the two good friends go as to not seem like a rude eavesdropper. Instead he reached in his pockets, searching for his phone, seeing that America had not responded. Arthur swallowed. How could he not have noticed their relationship? He thought he knew everything about America, but apparently that wasn't the case... he was far from heart broken, though. He had no romantic feelings for Alfred, but he thought he knew everything about him. He thought they were best friends.

Quickly, Arthur answered to France's text, making his way back to his room.

_You will certainly not be 'getting any' tonight, but I do think a certain star flagged duo might..._

The answer came immediately,

_Chine? Philippines? Amérique?__Tell me, __Angleterre__! Star isn't specific, __tu sais__!_

Arthur groaned. That frog could be so stupid...

_Guess. You got one right._

_... Non! Vietnam et Amérique__? You must be joking! Not my __colonie__... She would never!_

_Former colony, Francis, remember? I don't know about this either, but I had a reliable source._

The tea had been finished and Vietnam was feeling sleepier than ever. But America was hyped off of the sugar, going on and on about some sport played on ice that Lien had only heard of. She was nodding off when Alfred peered into her empty cup and suddenly took her wrist, carefully pulling her up before dragging her out the door.

She wanted to say something, to yell at him or hit him with her shoe, but his strength was too much and she ended up just going after him. He was kind enough to be gentle, not squeezing her wrist to hard, for which she was grateful. The Asian woman watched herself be pulled outside, feeling the cold air made her shiver, but soon after, they entered a shopping mall building. She couldn't phantom who would shop at this hour, but there were people. As incredulous as it was for her, America didn't seem bothered by it to say the least, bringing her to a set a stairs where she finally pulled off from him.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked, rather angrily.

Alfred frowned, "Didn't you hear me? I'm going to show you my favourite spot! You nodded when I asked..."

She realized she hadn't been paying attention. How impolite of her... now the least she could do was accept, "Ah, yes. Sorry. Didn't expect you to bring me about so fast..."

He simple laughed it off, "No need to worry! We're almost there, it's just up the stairs..." this time, he took her hand, "Come on!"

She nodded, looking at his hand connected with hers and swallowed. They used to do that quite often. Hold hands... She recalled that one time she gave him a ride on her boat, and the two of them were playing in the river only to go back to her place where they would sit together, side by side, fingers intertwined with one another's-

Quickly, Lien shook her head. That time was over and it wasn't coming back. It never would. That spark, the star that brought them together was dead. The light didn't even shine the earth anymore.

And then he opened the door to the rooftop parking. He let go of her hand and twirled a couple of times before stopping in the dead center with his hands on his hips. A breeze rustled his hair; his unzipped bomber jacket flapping on the loose ends, a pair of sparkling white teeth flashed the world. The sight would've been impressive, if it wasn't for that old, faded blue Honda Civic in the background and the grey that surrounded the parking lot.

"Come over here!" Alfred suddenly called out to Lien with a whine in his voice, "You can't see anything from there..."

The Vietnamese female walked over and stood beside him hesitantly, looking out at the distance. The city lights with tall buildings surrounded them. Not a star in the sky, but these lights on their own had their own kind of beautiful. Suddenly, she heard America crouch down in front of her, his back to her.

"Hop on, shorty!" he joked with a laugh in his voice. When Lien was trying to refuse, he hooked his arms in her legs and stood up, forcing her to frantically hold onto him to not fall off. When she saw the view from just a few feet higher, it seemed even nicer. She could see some people walk down with their lovers or families down below, tiny like ants yet strangely relaxing to watch.

"This place makes me forget I'm a nation," America confessed with a sheepish smile, "It's just so... isolated. It gives you the view of a king, but the fact that it's in this old parking lot gives it a very normal feel at the same time..."

"I think it's wonderful," Vietnam agreed, "But I'd like to be put down, please," she asked, her expression always serious, save for the moments when she was taken aback with awe.

"Yeah, sorry about that..." he bent down carefully, and she slid off of his back, much to her relief and his secret disappointment.

Lien checked the time and her eyes widened. It was ten to midnight. She gulped, "I need to get back to the hotel… my flight is early tomorrow..."

Alfred, who was rather used to staying his late immediately offered, "I could escort you there. It's dangerous... I mean, I know you're super tough, but you might get lost and I want to make sure you're okay and..."

"No, no thank-you," instantly, the dark haired woman denied, "I'll be fine. You've done enough for one night, thank-you... I really must be going," she turned and walked back towards the stairs, "Good-bye, America."

"See ya, Vietnam..." Alfred's shoulders slumped with a sad expression. He wanted to stay there a little longer though his eyes remained on her retreating form.

She opened the glass door, expecting him, no, _wanting_ him to follow her. She wanted him to take her back to those times but that wouldn't happen. As she went back into the warm building, she grimaced. The freshness of outside was something she had just gotten used to, and this artificial heat made her uncomfortable. She was quick to exit the building, not wanting to experience this feeling any longer. Lien made it outside, where she took a big breath, but only coughed when her lungs were filled with the brown grey smoke courtesy of the car that just sped past her on the side walk.

With each step she took, the burden on her mind grew heavier and it scared her. Seeing that spot that made America forget about being a nation... she had one too but she disliked it. Every time she went, she thought she could get away with being human. How many times was she tempted just to give up being a nation? Surely, there had to be some who just couldn't take it... there had to be a way for her... death, maybe? She didn't know if she could die, honestly. Even during the war, she was strong and prevailed without life threatening injuries. What if she could from a bullet to the brain? The thought comforted her and to know that it brought her comfort frightened her. It was a vicious cycle of emotions that frustrated her. She made sure to keep an eye on the street names, a mental map of the city in her mind. The hotel wasn't far.

But the thing that was really bothering her, the thing that really made her worry was _him_. That American... he was hinting it yet again. She didn't want to be in love with him anymore. It happened once but it won't be repeated. The mistakes they had made were of such magnitude after all. They weren't humans... any romantic relationship would be destined to fail. And even if the stars seemed to be in their favour, stars only dead lights. What use was a dead light?

Alfred inhaled the crisp night air. He would stay for another hour. He didn't look like it or act like it, but he could be deep and he could think. And think he did when he was in this spot. It was all he did. With his head high, his eyes closed and his hands in his pockets, he pictures a certain South-East Asian nation at his side. He wanted her so badly to be his again. They had their fallout, but it was in the past... he didn't care anymore. So what if he was capitalist and she was socialist? Could they not have a love as just humans? It just wouldn't be fair and he hated that to no end.


	5. We find Ourselves

"You're back," a smiling Thai greeted the dark haired woman as she entered the hotel room. She didn't understand how one could be smiling considering it was almost one in the morning, but she supposed that being known as the country of smiles wasn't just a fancy title.

"Yes, sorry for being so late," Lien apologized. She shared a room with her best friend, Kasem, because it was easier to save money this way. Her choices were either him or South Korea, and she certainly didn't want to be stuck with Yong Soo for long.

Her closest friend simply pushed up his glasses, already in his elephant-printed pajamas, "Not at all. Though, if I may ask, what kept you out so late?" he walked over to sit on his bed, watching her curiously.

"I needed to get some fresh air, that's all…" she stated, walking towards the bathroom, "Have you got your bags packed? Our flights are at six, so I suggest we leave here around four…"

"It's already done," Kasem beamed, watching her as she began brushing her teeth, "Don't worry about a thing, Vietnam. I'll take care of the alarm."

The woman rinsed her mouth and turned to her old friend with a small nod, "Thank-you, Kasem. I can always count on you."

Thailand smiled even more- if it were possible- when she used his human name, "Anything for you, Lien," and he didn't even bother to tell her his flight was actually at eight when she closed the door and started water for her shower.

After a little less than three hours of sleep, Thailand was rushing to put his glasses on and checked the clock to see if he had enough time to fix his hair. He had the worst of bedheads. Not having heard Vietnam stir, he looked to her bed but saw that it was already empty. He heard some movements in the bathroom and saw her emerge not long after, already dressed with all of her toiletries in hand, no doubt to place them in her bags. Kasem instantly walked in there afterwards, wondering what time the Vietnamese woman woke up to be ready this early.

A little before four o'clock, the two of them left the room, rolling their bags behind them. They took the stairs, not liking the awkward silence of the elevator. As they made their way down, they heard a people behind them, bickering in hushed whispers to avoid waking up the rest of the guests. Out of the blue appeared Yao, Ivan and Mei; all of them looking irritated- most likely from lack of sleep causing Vietnam to blink in surprise and hang back a little.

When the trio saw the two other nations in front, Mei instantly sped up to catch up with Kasem, no doubt wanting to complain to him. He was a good listener and always listened to the Taiwanese's problems, after all. Yao grumbled, chasing after her before she could convince the Thai that she was right and he was wrong. This left Lien and Ivan on the stairway together.

"Privet, Vietnam," the thick Russian accent was most prominent this morning, Lien thought.

She nodded to him, waiting for him to catch up before walking beside him, Yao and Mei's yells echoing from further down, "Good morning, Sovit," she used her old nickname for him, as always.

"I heard most interesting thing, yesterday," that was Russia, always cutting straight to the point; "You and Amerika seem to be getting along better, or so good source says."

Vietnam gulped. Could it be possible that Ivan knows what happened between her and American not four hours ago? She couldn't lie to Sovit but telling the truth wouldn't be smart either. So, she said a little white lie, the truth with withheld information, "He asked for a coffee and I didn't decline. There was nothing romantic whatsoever. Ask him, if you'd like."

Ivan chuckled, patting her head like she wasn't so much older than he was, "I believe you. My special girl would never deceive me, after all. You're one of the only ones who would never leave me for America."

There was only a nod in response as they met up with the others who had been waiting for them. Ivan removed his hand from her head, but not before bending down and adding in a whispered voice as the others were distracted, "You know I am not like France or Amerika. Russia would never abandon you, comrade, like they did. So you should not abandon your dear Sovit either."

Lien felt a shiver go down her spine as he pulled away, going after Yao as if this whole thing hadn't happened. Thailand noticed this discomfort and quickly when to wrap and arm around her, saying something about the cold weather that Lien didn't quite catch. With that, the five of them made their way towards the airport.

Russia left to the European side of the airport, bidding farewell to the Asians. Thailand finally admitted his flight was later and he wanted to check out a gift shop so he too, left them. Mei complained that she was hungry and China handed her a bit of cash, to which she stuck her tongue out, claiming he was stingy before she left to go get herself some breakfast. This left China and Vietnam alone in line to register their suitcases.

"It's feels like forever since we've been alone like this, Vietnam," Yao stated, half looking her way.

"It has been. I've noticed that you've been doing rather well, nowadays, China," there was a time when they would address each other with their human names, but that time was long gone now.

"Indeed I have been thank-you. And you don't seem to be doing too badly either," he continued, rather monotonously.

She simply nodded, expecting things to finish there, but just as they were they took a step forward in the lineup, Yao gestured for her to come closer.

"Russia was right, you know. You better stay far away from that blasted American. He'll drive you to ruin," he hissed under his breath, "You deserve better. Remember for what you fought for. Remember Uncle Ho. Do not lose sight of it for some petty romance- that kind of stuff doesn't exist for us. Do you understand me, Vietnam? Am I clear on this?"

Yao didn't have to say it twice, Vietnam only nodded in approval to him.

A week has passed since her trip to the United States, and Lien had returned to Hanoi safely. She and Alfred had had no encounters since then. In fact, they brushed that little moment they shared on the rooftop as nothing. Mei had often looked between her older sister and her American acquaintance to no avail. There was just no getting through these two.

And there was the Socialist Republic herself, in the field. She loved these fields and would protect them with her lives. Food was something that was precious to her, especially after the Vietnam War. With all of the chemicals sprayed throughout the land, the wondrous little places they did have that were safe for cultivating were treasured. Lien would often help a few gentle elder women in their field work, particularly during the dry season. She would, on her boat, take the bags of rice to the market and return with their profit.

Her paddle smoothly prodded the river water as she made her way to the market. It wasn't far by boat, but the trip allowed her to think in a quiet moment. Tree branches lazily hung over her head, shading her from the blazing sun above. The floating market was within view after a good ten minutes of constant, yet leisurely pace. When she made it, she quickly called out to the costumers, locals and tourists alike, who all hurried over to claim their rice. Lien collected the money she received in a special pouch that she would later distribute to her coworkers. By sunset, there were no more bags in the boat and the journey home was a quick one without the extra weight.

Unlike most nations, who made a living by working alongside their leaders- be them Prime Ministers, Presidents or others, Vietnam preferred to work in the fields. She received very little out of it, but she was still supported financially by the government. In exchange for the money she received, the Vietnamese woman attended world meetings and had to place nation work as a priority over field work. Of course, ASEAN conferences and World assemblies were hardly frequent affairs. Or so she thought.

As Vietnam handed the money to the elder ladies, she bid them farewell and took her paddle as she marched off to her farm house by the woods. Including this little one, Vietnam had three homes. Her boss insisted that she have one in Saigon and one in Hanoi. The third one was her choice and was the house she frequently went to. There was only one bedroom, for a guest, two bathrooms, a study, a kitchen and a small living space. Lien had a secret that this house could keep.

By nightfall, most sensible people would go to sleep, with the exceptions of late night workers and such. But Lien suffered from insomnia and she has suffered from it for sixty years. Before that, Lien suffered from nightmares even while awake. Ivan had gently lulled her back into reality until she only saw these hellish things in her dreams, which brought her to the conclusion that if she didn't sleep, she wouldn't have nightmares.

During these times of night, the nation enjoyed going outside to practice martial arts, a skill she had improved for years. Just as she was about to go, the phone began to ring. A frown adorned her face. Who would be calling at this hour? Curiosity took the better of her and a delicate hand picked up the telephone.

"_Cháo, Cộng hòa Xã hội chủ nghĩa Việt Nam__-_," she started only to quickly be cut off by a vaguely familiar voice that seemed slightly distorted, as if they were standing far from their own phone. For some reason, she could've sworn she could here helicopter blades.

"I know it's you, I did call after all," the voice, definitively male, interrupted, "I just wanted to let you know that I'll be dropping by- quite literally- in about 15 seconds," Alfred grinned on his end, "My boss is visiting your boss, if you didn't know, so I thought I'd come too," he laughed rather loudly, "See you in a bit!" and he hung up without allowing her one word in the entire conversation.

Lien's jaw dropped as she heard a noise from above. Instead of lifting her head, like anyone else would have done, she walked all the way to the window with fast strides. Peering through the mosquito net, she watched as the giant transportation device landed right in front of her home. She could see a pair of leather boots step out and then it was off again, revealing the tall bond male she claimed to have no relation to.

Not noticing her looking out the window, Alfred knocked on the door, humming slightly. It took a while, but eventually she shook her head and went to open the door, awkwardly greeting the American with a small wave.

"Hello…" she cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure, though in her mind, she was pretty composed for someone who had just had Alfred F. Jones delivered to them directly in front of their house by helicopter at 11:34pm, "Do… come in, I suppose."

He simply shook his head, "Nah, I'm not going in. I have something I want to tell you. After you came to my house, it was clear. Vietnam… no, Lien… Listen to me," he suddenly took both of her hands into his, "I want you to run away with me."


End file.
